Jun 4, 2015

potty talk

This post was from a month ago.... but I forgot to share! So even though this experience was traumatizing to ME, not Lincoln, we attempted some more potty training this past week and he's officially potty trained at home. I haven't been brave enough to take him out of the house without a diaper on... I'll save that adventure for a day when daddy can take him out. :)

A few snapped pictures that were post-nap, mid- snack time, and pre- buzz cut. 
We aren't really potty training in this household, yet (Or at least that's what I need to tell myself as an excuse for the horrific story I'm about to share). I was eager to potty train Lincoln after Simon was born to lessen the diaper load-- literally, but changing diapers on two kids isn't such a terrible trade-off considering the mess I've had to clean up already. Plus, Lincoln is already abusing the rewards system so I've already had a glimpse of the nightmare I'm going to be dealing with when I go full force on potty training. For example, this morning he went pee 3 separate times within 5 minutes-- I think he's mastered pinching-off mid flow to get more treats out of it.

Lincoln has used his potty a handful of times now, completely random over the past couple weeks. He will usually tell me when he needs to go, but the battle is getting him to go sit on the toilet. Even after I get excited for him and remind him he gets a special treat after, he still says NO! When has a special treat NOT worked on Lincoln? UGH!. 

One morning, he told me he needed to go and agreed to go sit on the potty!! YAY! He took care of business and he got a special treat! I wasn't in a rush to put a diaper on; clearly he emptied himself well, or so I thought. We were standing in the kitchen when he told me he had to poop again, and as I'm asking him if he needs to go sit back on the potty, PLOP! It hit the floor. I swooped him up to go put him on the potty, but then he started reaching his hand back to his bottom and got it all over his hands. I set him down next to the dining table to quickly grab a wipe for  his hands, but then another one plopped on the floor! SERIOUSLY? ANOTHER ONE? Forget his hands, I need to get this kid back on the toilet, STAT! I ran him to the bathroom and he started screaming bloody murder because he didn't want to sit down and I'm screaming bloody murder to make him sit down. He won that battle. So he stood in the doorway to the bathroom and dropped another one. Seriously. Another one. I had three separate piles of toddler feces in my house. THREE. I'm so glad he was keeping that all stored up just for this morning. Mind you, it wasn't even 9am yet. I wanted someone to knock me out with a bat, put me to bed, clean and sanitize my floors, and not wake me up until my son was potty trained.  Any takers?